Three Bullets Fired
by DJ Shifty
Summary: I like to think it's an interesting back-story for a certain HTF. You agree? Read on and answer for yourself. ONESHOT


You know those ideas you get that no matter what you just can't get rid of? Yeah, well. This is one of them. DJ thinks this makes for a good back-story for a certain character. He's just trying to avoid dying in Bloody Vengeance.

Enjoy.

* * *

It had been so long since I was called to work I was almost surprised when the phone rang. Almost. I'm never really retired. I've just been enjoying my holiday. And what a long holiday it is, my skills are beginning to get rusty.

"State your business." I roughly said into the phone. I've got no time for pleasantries.

"Nice to see you haven't changed with age."

Him. I should've guessed. He's the only one with my number.

"Again, state your business."

"I got another job for you."

"Who and where?"

"Her name's Melissa Wright. Currently resides in L.A. You've heard of the L&S vs. State trial?"

"Can't say that I have."

"Two guys, raccoons, under the aliases of Lifty and Shifty, held up and robbed at least seventy-two different stores across California. They were finally captured two months ago when they tried to barrel through a roadblock. It was a strong effort, but they were captured and arrested. The star witness in the trial is one Melissa Wright, your next target. You up for one last job? It'll net you about $120,000."

A hundred and twenty thousand dollars. With that kind of money I could finally retire for good, start a family.

"One condition. After this, you never contact me again."

After a short pause, the voice on the other end of the phone answered.

"Deal. It's been one hell of a ride with you."

"Agreed. Goodbye." I hung up. I had only seen my contractor once before, but had had not seen me. As I started packing some supplies, I wondered how a man with no hands could use a phone.

* * *

You'd think for a star witness to a state trial there'd at least be some security. An officer here, a surveillance truck there.

But no. I inspected the entire street, and the only thing that was remotely suspicious was a cat sleeping on a roof.

Cute, really. But I digress.

I creeped towards the front door of my target's house, and gently pushed on the door.

Locked. I should've known.

Five minutes later, the door swung silently open. I pocketed my lock picking tool, and stepped forward into the house.

The darkness was overwhelming. I stayed still for a few moments, letting my eyes adjust to the dark. I gazed across the room, taking in all possible exit routes. The door behind me was the only way out. I shut it, and entered the domain for my target.

A simple, one-story house. A 'Guchinni' model. The usual Guchinni plans put the bedroom at the back. I remember the entire floor plan. I know this like the back of my hand.

I approached Melissa's room with caution. Who knows if she invited a friend over. I knew she was recently divorced and has a son, but I was counting on neither of them being here tonight.

Here we are. Right outside her bedroom. I pushed the door open, and sure enough, there was my target, sleeping in a four-poster bed.

Without thinking, I raised my silenced 9 millimetre at her chest and fired.

She immediately sat up, her chest already turning a crimson red. She opened her mouth to scream, and I shot her in the chest again, this time aiming for the lungs.

The scream died in her throat.

One final shot to the forehead, and she jerked back onto her pillow, now no longer moving. Her formerly-blue sheets were slowly being stained dark red from the blood, and I turned to leave.

A small cry caught my attention.

I whipped toward the sound, raising my 9mm again, but didn't pull the trigger. In the corner of the bedroom stood a small, purple cot. It was covered in baby decorations and rainbows.

I slowly stepped towards the cot, and peeked inside.

A small boy, no less than three months old, with a spinning cap on, was silently sucking his thumb while sleeping. A nametag nailed above his head simply read 'Cub.'

I pondered what to do. I didn't have to kill him, but I couldn't just leave him here. Then, I got an idea. It was a shortcut through to the start of my family life, but I couldn't think of anything better.

I reached down, and gingerly picked the baby – Cub, up. I cradled him in my arms, and he opened his eyes.

He laughed.

I smiled, too.

I stepped away from Melissa Wright's body, and walked back down the hallway. Pausing at the front door, I look one last look around the room. My eyes settled on a photograph, and after a short pause I laid it face-down.

Time to go. I stepped out the front door, wrapping Cub in my jacket to keep him warm, and started for my hotel room. And my new life.

As I walked away, I will never forget the photograph I put down, the photograph of Melissa, Cub, and presumably the father.

A large, orange bear with a disco suit and an afro.

I shook that though out of my head, and settled for thinking of the future. Me and Cub. I think I'll like it, being a Pop.

That name suits me.

* * *

So, what do you think? DJ comes up with the weirdest ideas, sometimes. Incase you were too dense to figure it out, here's a synopsis:

A hitman is anonymously hired by Handy to assassinate a star witness in a trail involving Shifty and Lifty. The witness was married to Disco Bear, who is Cub's real father. The hitman is revealed to be Pop, and adopts Cub for his own.

Also, four author's notes:

Thank you Flakyfan55, for presenting us at with loads of wonderful stories. Your name should be in the FanFiction Hall of Fame, if that exists.

I know I should be working on Bloody Vengeance, but this idea would just no go away. Blame DJ.

There's a new poll on my profile, for what story I should do after Bloody Vengeance. Go vote, I dare you.

Happy Birthday to me.

Thanks for reading, and review if you feel the urge to.

~ DJ.


End file.
